


Drabbles: Hetalia edition

by NoOneFrUkingCares



Series: Drabbles- Inspiration that will never fly [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Many AUs, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneFrUkingCares/pseuds/NoOneFrUkingCares
Summary: Just ideas that I think of and know that I will never turn into stories because I have not the time nor the patience but have to write down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had just watched the music video for Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons, and this drabble is very very very heavily inspired by the music video. I wanted to write sad PruHun and somehow this came out.

Blows dealt without words. A bright sunny day where people go to die. Hit, punch, the same sickening sounds of bone breaking and reshaping, blood falling out. Of noses, spat out by mouths. Hit, duck, punch, kick, slap. It all happened. Getting closer and closer. Running away, chasing into the water. A scuffle. One final blow and he falls into the water, drifting away with no hopes of return. The blood follows him into the stream. Disbelief then terror. And he runs.  
He floats along the quiet stream. Mercifully, his nose faces the sky and he breathes, as the river takes him downstream. No one sees, and no one ever will, if things continue like normal. But today isn't normal. In any way nor form. The devil’s child, once they called him. Burn and drown him like a witch, they called to him. But that was years ago, centuries. No one who knows him is around. Let him dream.  
Rushing water, kids playing at the bottom. He boasts and taunts. She huffs and beats him yet again. They play in the water, the water that tried to drown him before.  
Blood, blood splattered clothes, sword and shield. Standing on a pile of bodies as they cheer for the victory. And she is next to him, and they are happy. He runs, tail tucked between his legs as he sneers down at him. And she too.  
The water starts turning red. All the blood ever covering his hands. They're washing off. And surrounding him to get revenge.  
Rapids forwards, stones and shards. They try to dash him to pieces. But he doesn't wake, and he doesn't breathe. Pulled under. He's not going to surface for air.  
She's happy, sitting at a coffee shop table dining with him. They talk, they laugh and they sip their drinks as he drowns.  
She's unaware.  
He watches as he, the little one tries to battle with that tiny wood sword that was made, just for him. He trains well, and the three of them laugh, one demon, one hero, and one little boy.  
He's gone, and he's not a little boy anymore. This is the music of pain, sound of death. In the middle, he strikes as a demon. Their words ring in his ears, as more and more blood flow.  
A red river, and dying body. But none of the blood is his. He's dead, but he never will be, truly. He lies on the river floor, a bed that carries him to the future.  
He will never rise above that surface again.  
A radiant glow, from the bride as she sees her groom. But it's not him, and the groom is having coffee with her right now. He watches sadly, and slips out the back during the reception. He doesn't want to see her with him. But she's happy, and he'll let her stay like that.  
Are you okay? The little boy asks. No. I never will be. He stirs in his hospital bed. But then he dreams, dreams on the bed of rapids.  
The war. That war. Oh how costly the mistakes. He chose to support him. Isn't that what you do for family? But watch and let him watch. He's destroyed. The greatest empire down forever. Forgotten. They killed him. The people are dead. His brother is crying. And they laugh as he, for the first time, feel but one heartbeat.  
He moves. Straining against rules and logic. He chokes as the noose tightens, and red noose in the water. Pulling, tugging, it won't budge. No air rises from his mouth, no water enters. He is already dead. But he moves to keep from dying.  
Goodbyes from the bride to the groom as she checks her watch. She's running late. And they part, and he looks back at her one last time before their next appointment.  
A routine hour. Leaving and driving in his car. But they are having a picnic today, but what for? He's not sure. No one is. But he still goes anyways, with the food like little red. They all do. Who will get there first?  
A wall stands. No, he screams. No, as they tear him away. He's on the other side. Let me see him. They don't let go. They suffocate him. On the other side, another brother strains as well. But they don't get free.  
A demon possessed. How strange. A necklace of red round his neck. Hand gripping and straining from a dead man dying. Red, forcing him to breathe and live again, growing and growing in size. Like a infant inside the womb, he lies. A safety of red, all around and inside him. He stops moving, and is still yet again.  
Happiness. He finds him again, tears cry and he feels a stirring as they join him within. But they can't. They don't belong to him, they belong to the one next to him. And he is lonely, a huge space within that shell never be filled again, while the other suffocates with love. But he can pretend, just for a few, that he's happy.  
A dive, headfirst. A saint praying to the gods, hands clasped for a corpse. The rushing water as he dives under a waterfall. He is already dead, even as his body hit the rocks and he lives.  
Wondering why she sees no one. A huge rock on top of a quiet stream. Hearing a car, listening for red.  
He sees her standing there looking for him. And he joins her in her search. Then they spot more red.  
Rising again, but weighed down. Only the red above showing he's ever been there.  
She gasps and screams and runs faster. Flying, a goddess or angel from heaven. But neither hell above or heaven below, will deny the red could be her bath.  
He follows, puzzled. He doesn't see it yet, but he can become a cheetah. Cheating time and wishes, he flies off the pages. But she gets there first.  
And pulls him onto land.  
No heartbeat. There's hasn't been one for awhile.  
Covered in blood. Not his.

 

A kiss of life and air. She breathes in and he moves out. Red rushed from his lungs like the falls within him. He doesn't stir.  
Calls to who will help him, keep him alive.  
He's already dead as the two closest grieve.  
Pushing up and down. It beats. It hasn't for awhile.  
Crying, thanking. As he wraps up in a blanket, a hospital as soon as possible. The picnic is canceled.  
She hops in, while he drives alongside. He is coming back.  
Days in the ER, and then they sit and watch to see if he wakes. He doesn't.  
Another sunny day when people go to live. He breathes, and they see him.  
He opens his eyes and they scold him.  
“Why were you being so reckless?! You could’ve died!” She screams in his face and cries into his chest.  
He smiles as he brushes her brown hair. Then as soon as she moves, his lungs are crushed again by the hug he gets.  
“Don't ever do that again bruder. I could've lost you for good.”  
“Nice to see you still love me.”  
Surrounded by flowers and treats, he is happy. Finding his clothes from then, he hasn't lost it.  
Smiling, he is happy as he pull it out. They are surprised, gasping in shock.  
She starts to cry again as happy tears pour down her face.  
“Liz, you have been one of the awesomest people I have ever met. You are my best friend, my best competitor, and you have been there from the start. I know that I have been trying to win you over for hundreds of years, and this isn't as awesome as it should've been. But will you make me happy beyond comparison and marry me?”  
She cries. Then she takes step back and punches him as hard as she can, with all the strength she possesses. But his smile doesn't waver as she leans forwards and kisses him as hard as she can.  
They taste blood, together. His blood and her blood. But eventually she draws away with the taste of them together, savoring it.  
“Yes, you idiot. Yes I will.”  
He cheers for them, congratulating his brother and his soon to be sister-in-law.  
She slips the ring on, her birth stone surrounded by the brilliant red, white and green of the garnet, diamond and emeralds.  
Prussia, wounded but smiling, now engaged.  
Hungary, thrilled but crying, and she can't wait to start another life again.  
Germany, surprised but relieved, and glad for the happy couple.  
And it was a beautiful day for people to be reborn, as they are happy.  
And the blood he drowns in this time, is mixed with hers, a love to be wary of.


End file.
